


Sparkler

by magicasen



Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon)
Genre: Coda, Episode Tag, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 04:52:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8358061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicasen/pseuds/magicasen
Summary: Tony's already lost the "best birthday present" competition, but it doesn't mean Steve can't enjoy his gift.Set post-S03E19: 'The House of Zemo'





	

**Author's Note:**

> Aww, what a sweet, touching episode packed with all the Steve feels! Obviously the proper way to show my appreciation is through porn.
> 
> Thanks to morphia for the beta!

Tony reminded himself that it didn't matter if _he_ was disappointed. 

That didn't stop him looking away from the spectacular fireworks display in front of them in favor of stealing another glance at his passenger.

He and Steve were in mid-air, Tony suited up in the armor, obviously, but Steve in his civvies. Their view was unobstructed by buildings, power lines, or Hawkeye's voice – the perfect vantage point for the city's annual 4th of July fireworks show.

Because sure, Steve hated surprises, and he hated all the Independence day jokes about his birthday, but there was never anything going wrong with this. The man _loved_ fireworks. Steve loved the colorful brocades, and the sizzling waterfalls, and the good old reliable peonies, and he loved the rings most of all. He'd admitted to Tony last year it was because with the stars and the red, white, and blue, they reminded him a lot of his shield.

Tony decided not to tell him how that particular design was _very_ intentional. 

He still remembered the first time they'd watched a display together. Steve hadn't needed the illumination from the fireworks for his face to glow. The honest openness and wonder had been achingly vulnerable, and Tony hadn't had any good quips to counter it.

But this year, Steve was barely there. Okay, he was facing the right direction, and his eyes were looking in the proper place, but his expression was slack, his eyes distant and daydreaming. 

There was no question where his mind had wandered to. It was petty, but Tony wished he'd been the one to have given Steve the best possible birthday present ever. The photo of Steve and his father was carefully tucked away in the inner pocket of Steve's jacket. The moment they arrived back at the Tower, Steve would probably disappear into his art studio to spend the rest of the evening with himself and his memories.

Steve turned towards Tony, like he just _knew_ that Tony was looking at him through the faceplate, and he smiled, soft and fond.

Tony smiled back, knowing Steve couldn't see it.

Yeah, what was he even thinking? It didn't matter if he was disappointed, not when the happiness shining out of Steve was the prettiest light in the night sky.

* * *

Tony tried, really, but several false starts into his own projects that wasted pitifully little time later, he dropped by Steve's studio out of curiosity and a longing for Steve's company. That longing encompassed more than just riveting conversation. There was nothing wrong walking into a Steve-sized scenario bearing a little hope, right?

It was the man's birthday, surely he also had come into the evening with some expectations. When Tony walked up besides him, Steve turned his head for a quick kiss, grinning into it. Supposedly not, but it was hard to feel disappointed when Steve was so chipper.

“It's like just seeing the photo is bringing back so many memories I didn't even realize I had.” Steve sketched in a nose. “Did I ever tell you about the time I hooked a whopper so big that Dad had to grab me around the waist; I might have fallen off the pier otherwise?”

He hadn't. Tony brought a chair over and straddled it as Steve launched into the story. It'd been a rainy day and the docks had been slippery, he wasn't _that_ weak that a fish, no matter how many pounds it was (it was twenty), could have tipped him into the harbor. 

When Steve finished, he paused in his shading too. He raised an eyebrow at Tony. “Really, Tony?”

“Really, Steve,” Tony replied on instinct.

“I just told that whole story uninterrupted,” Steve crossed his arms, the grin tugging at his lips betraying his mock sternness. “What, you're not going to stop me and tell me about some time you and your specially designed Stark-fishing wire nabbed a shark?”

Tony scoffed. “Fishing? Only time I'm seeing raw fish is when it's on an overpriced plate of sashimi. And it is _your_ big day. I'm being magnanimous.” Tony grinned. “Unless you're telling me this because you miss it.” 

It would totally ruin the moment to say he could listen to Steve go on so exuberantly for hours without a single word of interjection.

“Is it –“ Steve started, his voice surprisingly small, “I know you and Howard didn't exactly have the best – ”

“Nope,” Tony interrupted. It took a second for the ridiculousness of it to hit him, and he burst out in laughter. “Oh, Steve. You were so far off the mark that we're going to need to confiscate your shield.”

His good cheer wiped the remaining glumness from Steve's face. He was grinning when he walked over, sinking to his knees in front of the chair Tony was straddling. Tony's thoughts quickly turned back to what he'd been _expecting_ they'd have been busy with tonight. So, when Steve leaned in for a kiss, he grabbed the back of Steve's head to hold him there, quickly turning something light and simple into decidedly more.

“Oh,” Steve gasped when they parted, face already taking on that irresistible flush. His eyes darted to his fingers, where he was still grasping his pencil, which was Tony's cue to pull him in again.

“Okay,” a kiss, “we can do birthday sex now,” a flicker of tongue this time, “or,” he teased Steve's bottom lip between his teeth, “you can get back to your portrait and we can do it later.” He pulled back, distinctly smug as Steve tried to follow his mouth.

Steve didn't even look up from Tony's lips. The pencil clattered to the floor. “Now sounds good.” His breath was short, and Tony could have preened.

Tony patted him on the shoulder. “Good answer.”

* * *

They made it to Tony's bedroom in record time, thanks to Steve manfully resisting any kissing Tony attempted to instigate in the Tower's common areas. Steve made up for it when the door was safely locked behind them, almost shoving Tony down onto the bed and scrambling atop him in a rush to kiss the living daylights out of him.

The kissing was effective enough it took several insistent tugs before Tony realized Steve was trying to pull his shirt up. Tony moved his own hands from where they'd tangled in Steve's hair to the hem of his shirt, and then promptly forgot about pulling Steve's shirt off in favor of running his palms under the fabric and over his abdomen.

“Tony,” Steve muttered into his mouth. Was Steve going for admonishing, because it was not working.

Steve sat up just long enough to finish removing Tony's shirt before leaning back in. It was horribly unfair that only Tony was shirtless, so he pushed up Steve's shirt, except the bastard refused to move his own arms so Tony could take it off all the way. Apparently, he was too busy running his hands over Tony's bare skin. Steve's shirt ended up bunched up beneath his shoulders, and wow. Tony broke the kiss to admire the view. Was _that_ a look, Steve's chest completely exposed and rubbing eagerly against Tony's, but by all technicalities with his shirt still on. It brought to mind the blowjobs Steve would give him sometimes where Steve was completely naked and Tony only had his fly undone.

He wasn't going to live with just kissing now that his mind was occupied with thoughts far beyond that. Tony laid his hands flat over Steve's pecs to push him back. When Steve got off him, Tony scrambled onto his knees and began working on his own belt.

When he glanced back up after getting his pants off but before pulling down his boxers, Steve was watching him. Steve's shirt was off – good – but his pants were still on – not so good. Steve was worrying his lip with his teeth and distractedly skimming his hand over the tent in his pants, occasionally grinding down with his palm.

Tony wanted to tell him not to touch himself, but hell, it was the guy's birthday. Plus, with how Steve was biting his lip, he _was_ trying to hold back. Wasn't that a thought, that if it was up to Steve's libido he'd have whipped it out long ago. 

Tony scooted forward, ignoring his own near-nakedness to rectify Steve's, undoing his belt with practiced ease as they fell into more glorious kissing. One successful removal of belt and pants afterwards, leaving Steve flushed in a pair of briefs, Tony pulled back.

“So, what're you up for?” He eased down Steve's underwear, stroking at his hipbone with his thumb.

“You, apparently.” Then Steve had to ruin the moment by pointedly staring at himself, newly freed and certainly up for the attention, and _chuckle._

If it wasn't Steve's birthday and Tony wasn't already, quote unquote,  _up,_ himself, he'd kick the man out of bed himself. He settled for rolling his eyes. 

“Gonna have to be a bit more specific than that, birthday boy.” 

Steve frowned, and that wouldn't do, so Tony had to kiss him again. He rolled them both over, and Steve sank into the pillows. Tony pressed his advantage, wiggling closer and placing his forearms against the bed as leverage. When they parted, Steve smiled, relaxed and pliant, which was pretty high up there on expressions to wear in bed.

“We could tie you up,” Tony suggested. “You liked that, right?”

Steve ran his hands up Tony's side, leaving goosebumps in their trail, and shook his head. “I'm not depriving myself of this tonight.” He stroked his thumbs over Tony's chest. When one brushed over Tony's over-sensitive nipple Tony jerked a bit in surprise.

Steve pressed his lips against Tony's shoulder in apology. When he pulled back, the spot was sloppily wet, which Tony would find kind of gross if Steve hadn't turned his attentions to kissing the life out of him while slowly, insistently grinding up against him.

A few blessed minutes later, Tony pointedly pulled back and sat up. Steve whined, high and petulant. Tony held his ground. Sure, it was the guy's birthday, but the slow, lazy grinding had evolved into something far too raunchy to be termed either. No way was Tony coming from just that. He still had his boxers on. There were _standards_ involved.

On that note, it was long overdue to get with the program, and Tony pulled off his boxers and tossed them off the side of the bed.

“No, really.” He ran his hand down Steve's chest. “What do you want? Don't tell me you can't think of anything. You have one of the world's smartest, most _resourceful_ men in your bed.”

“ _Your_ bed,” Steve said. “And I don't really need anything but flexible right now, thanks.”

“Aw, engineering frameworks don't do it for you as dirty talk? I knew you only liked me because I'm hot.”

Steve smiled indulgently at him, running his hands down Tony's back to his ass, where he squeezed. He paused, lips parted.

“Uh, can you ride me?” Steve pushed his hips up hopefully, and Tony wiggled back, feeling for himself just how hard and ready Steve was.

“Yes,” he groaned, “yes, I can do that. You lazy old man.” No way was he reaching the drawer from right here, so he did an awkward penguin shuffle on his knees, his cock valiantly battling the good fight versus gravity between his legs.

When he'd retrieved the lube and returned, Steve was drumming his fingers along his length. Tony settled above him, spinning the tube in his fingers.

“You want to do it? Or shall I?”

“You can do it.”

“Wow, so you can watch and jerk off?” Tony lifted himself on his knees, pouring the lube out generously on his fingers.

Steve just laughed, resting his hands atop Tony's hips. “Well, I'm a perverted old man, aren't I?”

Tony reached around, breaching himself in haste. He turned his head even though he couldn't really see what was going on too clearly, concentrating on rocking back and forth on top of Steve and the feeling of being filled.

Steve tapped on Tony's thigh, and Tony turned back to watch Steve. Tony wasn't sure why Steve wanted his attention when _he_ was so enraptured with the little show Tony was putting on. 

Steve gulped and looked up at Tony from under his eyelashes, and a surge of arousal shot straight to Tony's cock. Tony flushed and resisted the urge to take himself in hand. God, Steve looked completely wrecked and they weren't even fucking yet. Maybe Tony didn't have to close his eyes, moan and arch his back so wantonly, but it distracted Steve well enough. Tony heard the lube cap pop open, followed soon after by the telltale wet sounds of Steve jerking himself.

Enough was enough. Tony removed his fingers and reached to hold onto Steve's cock. He adjusted their positions until the head was nudging against him. He sucked in a breath before easing just the top in. It was careful going as he sunk down, the beginning push always just a bundle of oversensitive nerves that gave no connotation to the sensations overwhelming them. Steve's mouth fell open, a long, drawn-out moan escaping until Tony had seated himself as far as he would go.

Tony chuckled at Steve's expression before closing his eyes and testing out his movements. Sensation soon turned to pleasure as his body instinctively guided him towards the best angles and most satisfying friction. He heard himself moan while he hit a particularly good spot, and it didn't take long to settle into a hard, fast rhythm that, judging from the answering sounds coming from Steve, worked for the both of them.

Steve's mouth hung half-open. His gaze alternated between watching Tony's face with his eyes glazed over, where each thrust wrung out sexy, high little pants, and watching a bit lower to where the action was happening, and his verbal appreciation came out decidedly louder and more explicit.

“Tony,” Steve groaned, his voice getting higher with each breath. “Oh, oh fuck.” His voice trailed off, his back arched, and he leaned his head back for a loud moan. Arousal spiked in all the right places, and Tony sped up, working his body faster, his legs burning, his heart racing, praise and encouragement and obscenities falling unbidden from his lips.

Around the time Tony was telling him how many times he expected him to come tonight, how Tony was going to jerk him off and suck him off and and eat him out and fuck him, Steve reached out and fumbled Tony's cock between his fingers. That was one way to disrupt Tony's rhythm. His mind buzzing, Tony leaned forward for a kiss, which Steve opened up for eagerly, his free hand reaching up to take a hold of Tony's hair. There was no leverage from this position, but Tony wasn't about to part anytime soon from Steve's throaty gasps, wet lips, and, oh yeah, Steve's hand now eagerly pumping his cock. Steve thrust his hips up, short, sharp movements, and it worked a little, barely staving off the urge.

When Tony had pulled away from the kiss, leaning back, Steve released his cock and settled his hands on Tony's hips. He ground up in time with Tony's own movements, a nice little counterpoint of pleasure. As happy as Tony was to keep this up, Steve wasn't. His mouth was shut tight, teeth biting his lip, and he gripped Tony's hips hard enough that there'd probably be bruises in the morning. Tony slowed down, trying to fan off the heat between their bodies in a futile bid to make this last longer.

“Please,” Steve whimpered, and Tony relented, stilling his body. They'd done this battle of strengths in bed before, and unless Tony had vibranium restraints on his side, the winner was a given.

Tony didn't even have to move, Steve holding him in place while he thrust up, fucking Tony with impossibly strong, fast thrusts. Tony's thighs burned, and there was no way he could have supported his weight without Steve's cock keeping him there. He settled for fucking into his own fist.

“Tony, Tony Tony,” Steve gasped, and then he thrust up and held his hips as he came. Tony watched Steve's open expression, wiped blank of everything except completion as he worked his body, trying to make the aftershocks last as long as possible.

Steve tried some short, aborted thrusts before collapsing back into the bed. Tony would have preferred to finish himself off then, but his legs had finally decided that even an orgasm wasn't enough enticement, they'd had enough for now, thanks. Steve's cock slipped out easily as Tony pulled free, ignoring the wetness around the back of his thighs as he rolled over on his side next to Steve.

“Remind me to never skip leg day again,” Tony mumbled as Steve brought an arm around him and nuzzled into his shoulder. He hadn't forgotten about Tony's lack of orgasm thus far, quickly trailing a hand down to wrap around Tony and pumping him good enough that Tony didn't even need to beg for more.

But, Steve, beautiful, brilliant Steve, re-positioned himself so that he could have both hands on Tony, one jerking at his cock and the other lower, cupping his balls and running an insistent finger along his perineum. He leaned forward to press a light kiss against Tony's lips, and Tony would really have liked to have deepened it, make it last a bit longer, but he didn't think anything would at this point.

Steve was staring intently at him, watching his face, and Tony realized that Steve wanted to watch him come. That pushed him over, and he spilled messily into Steve's hand. Tony turned his face into the pillow to stifle his moans as Steve didn't stop, trying to wring as much out of the orgasm as possible.

Several minutes passed with them just holding each other, before Steve tugged Tony's face towards him for a slow, languorous kiss. He was smiling goofily when they parted for air, shuffling closer to Tony and suddenly frowning.

“Mm?” Tony mumbled.

“We'll need to change the sheets,” Steve informed him.

“Ohmygod,” Tony muttered into his pillow. “It's your birthday and it's my come, don't worry about it right now. Or at least kiss me before you go get a towel.”

“Okay,” Steve said simply, and kissed him.

True to Tony's word though, Steve rolled out of bed afterwards. He wasn't gone for long, soon back and kneeling by Tony's side, rubbing a warm towel over Tony's stomach and thighs and the ruined sheets, interspersing the clean-up with small kisses and nips to Tony's lower half.

As nice as that was, Tony soon grabbed Steve's hand holding the towel and pulled him up. Steve followed easily, settling in next to Tony. He smiled into Tony's hair when he kissed him, and Tony didn't blame him.

“So, today you reformed a supervillain so much you erased an entire line of them, became an inspiration to your younger self, had a not-surprise birthday party and a fireworks show put on for you, _and_ you got that photo of your dad back.”

“Those fireworks aren't for me,” Steve said. “They're for the country.”

Tony hummed under his breath.

“What's that _hmm_ for?”

“Uh. Well. Stark Industries might have caught wind that Macy's was planning to downsize it a bit this year, and struck a favorable deal convincing them otherwise. Fireworks technology is pretty fun to mess with, if you're wondering.”

If Steve kept looking at him like that, Tony might say some really stupid, unforgivable things.

“And _I_ got to play with a time machine and _not_ get yelled at for it,” he blurted instead. “Plus some pretty awesome sex, and now I think it's cuddles?” he added as Steve ran his fingers up his side.

“Yup. Swell day,” Steve agreed, pulling Tony closer for more.

Several warm, sleepy moments later, Tony was in that sweet spot just before drifting off, safe and content, when Steve bolted upright. Tony grumbled in discontent at the sudden cold spot besides him.

“Wait, I didn't lose that photo of my dad! _Hawkeye_ stole it from me back in 1943!” He made to get up, before Tony hooked an ankle around Steve's waist. 

“Yeah, where do you think you're going? Come back here before I become a Capsicle.” 

“I thought I had just been careless, but – !” Steve made a high noise of frustration and buried his face in his hands. “If I hadn't told him, then – ”

“Then you wouldn't have it now. I don't think anything but you could have lasted through seventy years of sub-Arctic temperatures.” 

Not a good answer, judging from Steve's expression. “You agree with him?”

“It was a well-intentioned asshole move,” Tony said to Steve's disappointed look. “Uh, but still an asshole move!” Honestly, Tony could see himself doing it, too. But more importantly – ”But really, you can kick Clint's ass later. You are _not_ leaving this bed until it's officially no longer your birthday.” 

“That still gives us,” Steve snuck a glance at the clock on the side table, “almost an hour.” 

“Really, Steve? An hour, in bed, in our birthday suits. Don't know about you, but I can think of ways to make that time just fly right by.” 

Tony's non sequitur had worked, because Steve was fighting a smile. “You were just about to fall asleep.”

“Well, you were supposed to paint after this. Don't plans change, Captain Adaptable? C'mere.” 

Steve acquiesced, really too quickly, which Tony figured meant Clint's punishment had been downgraded to a very stern talking-to.

Not that he cared about Hawkeye's fate when Steve was back in his arms.. He pulled away from the kiss to smile at him.

“Happy birthday, Steve.” 

 


End file.
